


Snips and Snails, and Sugar and Spice

by backtoblack101



Series: The One Absolutely Beautiful Thing [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Babysitting, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 02:49:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3633891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backtoblack101/pseuds/backtoblack101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the things Peggy had given Angie over the years there was one thing she could never offer her and Angie was okay with that, really she was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snips and Snails, and Sugar and Spice

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from this nursery rhyme;
> 
> What are little boys made of?  
> What are little boys made of?  
> Snips and snails  
> And puppy-dogs' tails  
> That's what little boys are made of  
> What are little girls made of?  
> What are little girls made of?  
> Sugar and spice  
> And everything nice  
> That's what little girls are made of

Angie loved kids. When she’d been fifteen and her eldest sister Maria had a little boy she’d stayed at her sister and brother-in-laws house for an entire month helping them look after her new nephew. Her Ma had laughed and called her crazy when she’d refused to come home after the first week, unable to fathom that seven days with a new born hadn’t put Angie off the idea of kids for life, or at least until the right fella came along, swept her off her feet, and set her up in a nice big house with plenty of room to raise a family. Angie had wrinkled her nose at the thought of marrying a guy then, and that had made her Ma laugh again, insisting she’d understand the appeal someday.

In spite of her mother’s insistence that day had never come; fifteen years later and if anything Angie turned her nose up at the idea of men more now than she had as an indignant teenager.

It wasn’t all bad though, it may not have been a fella but she’d sure as hell been swept off her feet, and she’d definitely landed herself a big enough house (which was maybe partly due to a fella considering who the house actually belonged to and all).

Really the only thing Peggy couldn’t give Angie that a fella could was kids and Angie didn’t mind all that much, really she didn’t. They’d gotten a Yorkshire terrier just over a year ago called Jarvis (Angie had wanted a Labrador and as a compromise Peggy had awarded her girlfriend the right to name the dog on the condition it be a smaller breed – after five years together Peggy still apparently failed to take Angie’s sense of humour into consideration) and thanks to the roof-top pool that came hand in hand with living in Stark’s mansion Angie was of course considered the favourite aunt among all her nieces and nephews and during the summer holidays she was fairly certain she saw them more than their own parents did.

So yea, really Angie didn’t mind at all.

Expect, perhaps, for times like this.

Her brother Carlos and his wife, Anita, had been invited to a wedding in California; some army buddy Carlos had stayed real close with after the war that wanted him to be best man. Angie wasn’t quite sure on the details really, except for the fact that a bus ticket to California was expensive enough for Carlos and Anita, never mind tickets for their three kids.

Of course when Carlos had brought this up two weeks ago at Sunday dinner he’d meant for their Ma to offer to keep the kids for the few days instead. Angie was quicker off the mark though, and without as much as a glance across the dinner table at Peggy she’d offered up their services for the few days; they had the room after all.

Carlos hadn’t wanted to at first, and by Carlos Angie of course meant Anita (she’d not missed the worried glance her sister-in-law had shot her brother from across the table). It wasn’t that her family disapproved of her and Peggy’s living arrangement, the fact alone that Peggy had a seat at the table for Sunday dinner for the past five years showed that beyond doubt, though Angie knew some of her in-laws weren’t so open minded when it came to her _tendencies_ and Anita certainly fell into that category. Not that she’d ever say so openly for fear of what Angie’s Ma might do to her, but she’d always tried her best to keep their kids away from Peggy and Angie’s house, apparently fearing they may all turn out queer too if they swam in their aunt’s pool for long enough.

Angie’s argument about having enough bedrooms had been a solid one though, and once she mentioned her and Peggy had decided it was getting warm enough to fill the pool up again there’d been no way in hell Carlos (or Anita) could say no to the pleading looks on their kid’s faces.

Angie Martinelli, one; stuffy sister-in-law, zero.

Anyway, to cut a long story not-so-short that’s how Angie had ended up where she was now, leaning against the door frame to one of their many bedrooms, watching quietly as Peggy told her niece, Lisa, a story. Naturally it involved a brave young princess, locked away in a tall, tall tower by an awful, scaly, morally questionable, fire breathing dragon that got fed-up waiting on her prince and instead decided to teach herself how to fight in order to escape. Angie almost laughed at the detail Peggy went into when explaining basic manoeuvres, yet Lisa seemed enthralled by the tale, even cheering at the end when the princess managed to defeat the dragon and return to her kingdom.

“Well, well, well,” Angie hummed, for the first time alerting both occupants of the room to her presence. “That was quite a story.”

“Aunty Angie I think I’m going to be a fighting princess when I grow up,” Lisa professed, her eyes shining with excitement.

Peggy blushed at the young girl’s statement but Angie just laughed. “Well hun’ you remind your Aunt Peggy of that in a few years and I’m sure she’ll be more than willing to teach you a thing or two.”

“Really?” Lisa’s excited eyes darted away from her aunt to look at Peggy instead. “You can teach me how to fight dragons?”

“Well dragons may be beyond my scope of knowledge,” Peggy explained, trying not to laugh. “Though I promise you that in a few years if you still wish to learn how to become a fighting princess I’ll show you how.”

Lisa stuck out her hand in Peggy’s direction, extending her pinky. “Promise?” she asked then, her voice determine.

“I promise,” Peggy replied solemnly, wrapping her own manicured pinky around the much smaller one in front of her. “Now, get some sleep sweetheart,” she added then, leaning in to kiss her niece on the head before standing and straightening herself out.

Then Peggy met Angie at the door, both women wishing the girl a final goodnight before exiting the room, shutting the door with a quiet click behind them.

“A fighting princess?” Angie scoffed quietly, careful not to wake her two nephews, or give reason for Lisa to come out of her room.

“The books her mother sent with her were all about princesses that got rescued by a prince,” Peggy explained with a look of mild distain. “And while I’m all for a good fairy tale I don’t see why Lisa has to suffer through stories telling her young girls must wait to be rescued while I’m sure Anthony and Carlos Jr get stories read to them about young boys actually _being_ heroes.”

It was only when Peggy finished her rant she realised the way Angie was staring at her; eyes a little misty and her bottom lip pulled up between her teeth. Then without warning she was crying; slow, eloquent tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Sorry,” she muttered then and before Peggy could ask her what for she was pushing Peggy in through a doorway to one of their bathrooms, pushing her up against the sink and kissing her hard.

Peggy could taste the salt on her lips but when she tried to pull away, tried to ask what was wrong, Angie just kissed her with more determination until eventually Peggy resolved to comforting her like this instead, and so she pulled her closer, kissed her harder, and let her cry.

“Sorry,” Angie whispered again after a while, once their long breathless kisses slowed into heavy panting and quick pecks. “I just… sorry.” Then she was wrapping her arms tight around Peggy’s neck and burrowing her head against her partner’s chest and for a second Peggy was bewildered, yet she wrapped her arms around Angie anyway, keeping her steady.

“Is there uh… something wrong?” The question seemed ridiculously redundant at this point, though Peggy found herself otherwise at a loss for what to say.

“No…” Peggy felt the word more than heard it as the sound hummed against her chest. “I just…” Angie looked up, her eyes still wet and her cheeks pink from crying. “You’d be a real good parent.”

Peggy smiled sadly. “Because I’d teach our children how to fight?” She teased, earning a watery laugh from her partner.

“Yea that,” Angie hummed, leaning the side of her head back in against Peggy’s shoulder, angling it this time so her words wouldn’t be muffled. “And you’d make sure our kids knew their worth. You’d teach our daughter how to stand up for herself and you’d teach our son to be respectful. You’d teach ‘em French too, and I’d teach them Italian and how to cook. They’d probably be the smartest kids in their class, book smart and street smart too. The kinda kids that wouldn’t be taken for push-overs on the playground, y’know.”

Peggy hummed her agreement. “I can see them now. We’d call our daughter Gina after your mother and perhaps the boy could be Howard.” That earned her a sharp poke in the side from Angie. “No? Not Howard then. Perhaps Steve?” This time Angie just nodded slowly against her chest and Peggy smiled; she would have quite liked to name her son Steve. “Gina would have a tongue just as sharp as yours and Steve would love helping you cook. I think he’d be a chef.”

“Yea,” Angie agreed. “He’d love cookin’ and bakin’ and my Ma would love him for it because I don’t think any of the grandkids have taken much of an interest yet. Gina would follow in your footsteps though. I’d take her to a few actin’ classes, maybe start her on some tap classes too and she’d be real good but then she wouldn’t audition for anythin’ so I’d sit her down and ask her why, y’know, ask her if it’s because she thinks she’s not good enough, and she’d tell me that’s not it at all. She’d tell me the only reason she wants to be good at that sorta stuff is because being a good actor will help her with espionage and bein’ a good dancer will help her when it comes to fightin’. She’d be the next director of SHIELD after you.”

Now it was Peggy’s turn to shed a tear, letting it role down her cheek then catching it with the back of her hand before it dropped off her chin.

“You’d be the fun one,” Peggy managed after a moment, her voice still wobbling in spite of her best efforts to remain composed.

“Yea, but you’d be the person to teach ‘em how to shoot their first gun,” Angie reminded her. “I’m sure we’d both be considered fun after that.”

For a while then they just stood in the bathroom, nothing but the silence of the house to distract from Angie’s occasional sniffle Peggy’s long shallow breaths. Eventually it was Peggy that spoke, her voice hoarse and broken.

“I’m sorry I can’t give you children Angie, I truly am.” The sincerity behind each syllable struck Angie to the core, and she wrapped herself even tighter in her partner’s embrace.

“I know,” Angie whispered. “But you gave me your heart Peg, and really that’s more than enough.”

**Author's Note:**

> this broke my heart a little to write.......


End file.
